


Not A Word Ever Said

by Evilpixie



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-27 19:08:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evilpixie/pseuds/Evilpixie
Summary: Bruce is a vampire.Clark has never talked to him about it.





	Not A Word Ever Said

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文-普通话 國語 available: [【翻译】只字未提 Not A Word Ever Said](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804518) by [lokitsch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lokitsch/pseuds/lokitsch)

Bruce was a vampire.

It wasn’t something they talked about.

But Clark knew.

Most of the time he didn’t think about it. Bruce was his friend, his ally, and one of the most competent and compassionate men he’d ever had the privilege of knowing. It had been a surprise – though in hindsight perhaps it shouldn’t have been – when he’d first accidentally caught sight of Bruce’s fangs in the midst of battle… but it hadn’t taken him long to decide that it didn’t change what he thought of the man.

Batman was still Batman.

Bruce was still Bruce.

His no killing rule was still firmly in place.

As was his seemingly endless devotion to the ideal of justice.

And so, life had gone on. Not a word ever said.

Sure, every so often while visiting Wayne Manor, Clark would accidentally stumble across small pieces of evidence. A dead bat… drained of blood, the fabulously expensive alcohol uncorked at parties… and never drunk, the weight of the curtains in his bedroom… thick enough not even Clark could sense any solar radiation through them. He never commented on such things.

But now… now they were in trouble.

They were pinned down, Clark had a shard of kryptonite in his shoulder, and the sun was rising.

“Bruce. Go.”

“No.”

“Bruce. You have to go. Now.”

The man was hunched over him, medical implements in hand, trying to pull the kryptonite free. The sky behind him was rapidly turning from navy to light blue.

_“Please.”_

“Shut up.”

He gasped in pain as he felt a piece of kryptonite slip free of his shoulder. It was only a piece though, the shard in his shoulder must have shattered. There was no way Bruce would be able to pull it all out in time.

“Bruce you need to—”

Bruce fixed him with a strange look. Bright eyed. Beautiful. _Breathtaking_, even through his cowl. _“Shut up,”_ he said again, voice deep, slow, and reverberant. For some reason this time Clark couldn’t help but obey.

He lay, muted and staring as Bruce worked. Another shard came out. And then another… and another.

The clouds above were starting to glow with reflected light.

A fifth shard. A sixth. Bruce was dropping them in the lead compartment in his belt. But it wasn’t enough. It still wasn’t enough. Clark’s hands were shaking. His vision weak. He needed sunlight…

At that moment, as if answering his call, his worst nightmare came to life. A plank of pure golden sunlight speared across the sky... and Bruce started to burn.

Clark saw it all in slow motion. He saw, even as he felt power returning to his limbs, Bruce’s face contort in pain. He saw the furls of smoke rising from his shoulders. He saw his fangs as he grimaced.

In that moment the last shard was pulled from Clark’s shoulder. It fell from Bruce's shaking fingers and onto the dirt. The radiation not gone but no longer buried in his flesh.

Clark grabbed Bruce and with all the limited power in his body flew… not up but down. Down into the earth. Away from that light. Away from the sun.

They burst out into an old subway tunnel and collapsed with a shower of earth and stone. Filthy water swirled around them, rubble fell from above. None of it mattered. Weakened, bleeding from his shoulder, and gasping for breath, Clark dragged Bruce into the darkness, frantic to escape any light that might spill in the opened hole.

They staggered around one bend, then another, and another.

“Clark,” Bruce finally said, clinging to him. “Clark stop.”

He did. They were in an old station.

It was dark. Safe.

He looked at Bruce. Saw the burn on his face. Pulled back the cowl to see it closer.

Bruce flinched but didn’t recoil or try to hide.

It was bad. His skin blistered. Red in some places, blackened in others. _Only a few seconds,_ Clark thought with rising horror. _Only a few seconds did this to him. If he’d stayed longer, if there had been another shard of kryptonite in my arm…_

Bruce closed his eyes and the wounds began to heal.

Clark watched, heart still thudding in his ears as the damage slowly disappeared leaving only a slight redness on Bruce’s perfect skin.

“There is still some kryptonite in your shoulder,” he said softly, opening his eyes. “Not much, but it needs to be removed. I don’t have the skills or equipment to do it here.”

He tried to say something. Couldn’t.

“Come,” Bruce pulled him gently forward. “This way to the cave.”

It was a long walk. He was staggering, Bruce wasn’t much better. They leant on each other and, as always, didn’t talk about it.

Clark didn’t remember arriving at the cave. He only remembered walking, listening to the sound of Bruce’s heart which still beat just like any other, and trying not to think about what had just happened, what he’d almost lost. The next thing he knew he was lying naked in the bat cave, a bandage on his shoulder and a sea of solar light generators pointed at his bed.

Bruce was there, as always. Standing back, in the darkness.

“You have been asleep for eleven hours.”

Clark was silent.

Bruce’s eyes narrowed. _“Speak freely.”_

“You shouldn’t have stayed,” he said, voice rough in his throat. “On the battlefield, as the sun was rising. You shouldn’t have stayed.”

“You shouldn’t have pulled me down into the earth.”

“Where else could I have gone?”

“Up. Into the sunlight. You would have healed.”

“And you would have been burst to a crisp.”

Now it was Bruce’s turn to be silent.

“You’re my best friend, Bruce. I’m not going to let you die.”

“You should.”

Clark looked at him, a looming figure in the dark. “Why? Why are you allowed to risk your life for me but I can’t do the same for you?”

“You’re Superman.”

“So?”

“You are more important to this world than I.”

He croaked out a small painful laugh. “That is such bullshit.”

Bruce’s lips thinned. Angry. In denial.

“You’re Batman,” Clark said. “You’ve saved _thousands_ of people. Tens of—”

“You know what I am,” Bruce cut him off.

It wasn’t a question but Clark felt compelled to answer anyway. “I do.”

“Then you know, I don’t have a life to save.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ve already said that.”

“And I’ll keep saying it as long as you keep saying stupid things like that. Of course you have a life to save, Bruce. You’re the most important person in the world to me. I lo—” He caught himself, but it was too late. Bruce had heard what he almost said. Clark had too, and the truth of it beat wild, frantic, and finally free inside him.

“You love me?”

“I… I…” Clark was reeling. He loved Bruce. He did. He hadn’t realised it until this moment but he did. More than anything. How long had he felt like this? Months? Years?

“Clark.”

“I… I just…”

“Do you love me?”

“I… I think…”

“Do you?”

“It’s not what you think. I…”

_“Answer me.”_ The command was touched with power.

“Yes.” He couldn’t deny him. “Yes I do. I love you. I’ve loved you for years.”

Instantly the solar lights were off and Bruce was coming towards him, black cape billowing behind him, eyes a piercing silvery blue, shadows clinging to the sharp angles of his face.

Clark was suddenly both painfully aware of his nudity and inexplicably afraid. He batted back the duel feelings as Bruce leaned over him, beautiful and terrible and everything he’d ever wanted.

“Is this what you love?” Bruce hissed, teeth flashing. “A monster?”

The fear he was feeling magnified. Unnatural and strong.

“You’re using your powers,” Clark whispered. “Trying to scare me. It’s not going to work.”

Bruce hissed – really _hissed_ – and for the first time since Clark had known him he looked like a vampire. Fangs long and sharp, skin unnaturally white, eyes swirling with strange dark power.

“I’m not afraid of you,” he said, pushing back that the uncanny influence he felt pressing on his mind. “I could never be. No matter how much you try to make me.”

Bruce glared at him.

“I love you,” he said again and let himself feel the truth in those words. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t want that. I know the idea of me loving you is probably repulsive to you. But—”

“You think I’m _repulsed_ by you?” Bruce asked incredulously.

Quietly. “Aren’t you?”

In an instant Bruce had turned, cape snapping behind him and body disappearing into the darkness.

Clark held his breath, waiting for him to return. He didn’t.

Slowly Clark stood, gathered up his clothes from where he found them on a nearby table and went out to explore the cave. It was two hours later when he finally found him, deep in the cave’s natural networks, sitting on a rocky crag looking over a cavern of bats.

Clark flew up to him. “Hey. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bruce said softly.

“I’ll go soon. I just wanted to check up on you before I did.”

No answer. But that didn’t mean the end of the conversation with Bruce. It never had.

“Um. About what I said earlier—”

“Do you remember when we met, Clark?”

He did. “You followed me home.”

“You looked through my mask.”

“I was angry at you.”

“I was not angry at you,” Bruce said softly.

“Really? You seemed angry when I called you by your name.”

Bruce didn’t deny it. “Do you know why I continued working with you?”

“We worked well together.”

“We did. But do you know why I continued working with you?”

“I guess I don’t,” Clark said.

“It’s because I can’t bite you,” Bruce told him. “Your skin. It’s invulnerable. If I tried to bite you I’d only hurt myself. No matter how tempting you may be, you are safe. Even if I lose control, you’d be safe. It’s what allowed me to let my guard down around you. It’s how I could relax.”

“You fight alongside Robin. Alongside the Justice League.”

“But I don’t relax. I have to be on guard against myself with them. Always. Not with you.”

“You could have bitten me today, when the kryptonite was in my shoulder.”

Softly. “I suppose I could have.”

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes.

Then…

“I could never be repulsed by you, Clark."

"I know. I'm sorry I said that. I guess I just—"

"And I love you too."

He turned to stare at him in shock.

Bruce wasn’t looking at him. He was gazing into the darkness, eyes glazed. “From the first moment I knew you, I loved you. I loved what you were. I loved _who_ you were.”

“Bruce. You don’t have to—”

“A being of strength, of passion, of _hope_, come into my dark little world.”

Clark flinched. “Ah. Well. I suppose Superman has that—”

“A red faced farm boy turned big city journalist, blushing and beautiful, yet somehow still with more than enough wit to keep me constantly on my back foot.”

Clark felt his cheeks heat. “That’s very nice but—”

“A man who believed in me, trusted me, and fought by my side. A man who can fly, could be anywhere in the world, but is here, sitting beside me, in a cave filled with bat shit.”

Clark couldn’t deny that.

“I love you, Clark. More than you could ever know. My world was so dark before you. Even Robin, he couldn’t lighten it. Not the way you have. But what I am… it makes certain things impossible.”

Clark considered that for a long time.

“Bruce?”

“Yes, Clark?”

“When were you born?”

“January 10th.”

“What year?”

A long pause. “1899,” he finally said, barely more than a whisper.

“And when did you die?”

Bruce’s face was as telling as stone. “March 30th, 1939.”

“And yet here you are in 2019, sitting beside me, a solar powered alien with a glowing green rock allergy.”

“Your point?”

“_My point is_ I doubt anything is as _impossible_ as you may think.”

“You're insufferably idealistic,” Bruce said, but there was a hint of something that might have been a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just saying,” he moved closer to Bruce, his heart suddenly thudding loud and heavy in his chest. Bruce knew it too. He heard the responding uptick in Bruce’s own heart. “If you want… more,” Clark said awkwardly. “If that’s what this means, I would be there. For you, I would be there in a second, even if some things may not be possible for us, I would be there.”

Bruce looked at him.

“I do love you, Bruce. I love you so much.”

Bruce studied him then slowly reached out and ran his fingers over Clark’s cheek.

He shuddered. Bruce’s fingers weren’t cold. Not really. But there was a quality to them which wasn’t quite human either.

“You can have a life,” Bruce said softly. “A good life. Why would you give that up for me?”

“I don’t think I am.”

Bruce didn’t look convinced so Clark threw all caution to the wind and did what he hadn’t realised he’d wanted to do for years. He lent in and kissed Bruce. Not hard, but with purpose, right on his lips.

Bruce moved as if to withdraw… then… with a small sound melted into the kiss, his lips soft and moving against Clark’s. It wasn’t a sexual kiss. Not really. That didn’t stop it from being the single most passionate kiss of his life.

When it ended they stayed together, Bruce resting his forehead against Clark’s.

“You’re still weak,” Bruce said after what had to be at least an hour of them tangled together that way. “You need to go to the sun.”

“Where will you go?”

“I need to feed.” He said it at a whisper, as if what he was and what he did were still somehow a secret.

“Can I see you later?”

“When the sun rises I will return.” Low. “It would please me if you were here when I did.”

Clark smiled. "I will be."

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short thing I wrote today for fun. I hope you like it!


End file.
